


Letters Home

by JessariOfErebor



Series: Iridescent [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Humor, Letters, Multi, behind the scenes of TLS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 22:09:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10863078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessariOfErebor/pseuds/JessariOfErebor
Summary: While on the road to Erebor, Bilbo and the Durins send letters home. These letters include details and side stories that are "Behind the Scenes" in The Lightning Strike.





	Letters Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I was staring at my screen trying (and hopelessly failing) to write a smutty sequel to "Durin's Day Dancing" when the idea for this accompaniment to "The Lightning Strike" popped into my head. I hope you guys enjoy!

Dearest Primula:

 

I must say, this has been quite the unexpected adventure and we have yet to even cross the Misty Mountains! Alas, I cannot tell you the nature of our quest yet. It is important that it remain a secret, and there is always the chance that this letter could fall into the wrong hands. Therefore, I will tell you as much as I can without telling you why we travel.

It is wonderful to be in Rivendell again so soon. It is even more wonderful to have our own rooms. As much as I love my companions and communal sleeping, I am very glad to be granted a reprieve from their snoring for a couple weeks; Bombur (the large, redheaded fellow) especially. As I write this, I sit on a soft bed using a new journal that Ori and Elrohir gifted me. These pages are from it. Note the excellent, artistic symbols and scripts used as page borders! I never thought I’d see the day that dwarves and elves became friends, but our youngest ones have accomplished it! I think Thorin might explode if anyone else intermingles with the elves. The anger is simultaneously excellent news for my sex life and terrible news for my patience. Ironically, he doesn’t truly _hate_ Elladan and Elrohir. He’d never admit it, but it’s true. (Every other elf can all waltz right into the fires of Mount Doom for all he cares, Elrond included.)

This late-morning sunlight is warm, illuminating my room through the open-air balcony. We are facing west, with a wonderful view of the river. I am glad that we do not face east - waking to bright sun in your face is never a fun experience.

How I wish you were here! So much has happened, and I know you will begin to froth at the mouth once I get down to business. Yet, to get to the truly juicy parts, I must start at the beginning. For this letter that beginning will be Bree, though I will include some things that occurred beforehand as well.

You asked for details if anything happened with “the handsome one,” and I am going to indulge you.

By the time I saw you in Bree, I had become friends with a few of the dwarves I was traveling with - Ori, Bofur, and Bombur specifically. (I didn’t get to know Fili and Kili until later.) Though Thorin and I had flirted a bit that night, I truthfully had not expected anything to come of it - besides a few midnight or ale-soaked thoughts, of course. He is a dwarven king after all, crown or no, and I was no more than myself: Bilbo Baggins of Bag End. (Stop your fussing at my self-depreciation, I haven’t finished.) Yet, there was always something _more_ there from the start. A bolt of **something** when we met eyes for the first time. A gut feeling that told me to trust him the night we met. Then there were little things that reminded me of my mother’s stories: a breeze of relief over the back of my neck, the cold-water feeling of surprise down my spine, a phantom pinch during flirtation.

There was a night on the road where he sang a beautiful dwarven love song accompanied by his companions and his harp, and we shared a few pipes of Longbottom leaf.. _._ Still, it was not until after I had said goodnight to you in Bree that anything of true note occurred.

Just as I made my way up the stairs to bed, he pulled me into the alcove on the landing - the very same one that you often dragged Drogo into as a tween. (By the way!! You are **NOT ALLOWED** to get married without me there, so you better begin thinking about dates sometime next spring or summer at the earliest!!) Anywho. Thorin and I flirted a bit more, and then he kissed me. Oh, Prim. It was such a soft kiss. I didn’t think that dwarves were even capable of that level of gentleness, but I was wrong in the best way possible. Then we were making out in the moonlight with fervor, doing justice to the tales of dwarven passion, and it was just like something out of Maribelle Took’s romance novels! It was hilarious, though, when a few of our companions came by our nook. They were drunkenly making bets on when Thorin would propose a courtship. The two of us barely restrained our giggles; if Thorin’s sonorous voice could even be described as making such an action. (That’s something I was surprised to enjoy about my dwarves; their betting. They are utterly playful and easygoing in a rough way that our kin could never achieve, in more ways than one.)

And oh, Thorin’s voice. In bed, he will lapse into ~~Khuz~~ dwarvish, completely incapable of Westron past a certain point. (Can you feel my ego boost in Hobbiton? Ha!) (In all seriousness, though, I have become more confident. I feel as though I am finally flowering into who I was always meant to be: it is a very freeing experience, and it’s a shame I can’t explain the pun. When this quest is settled, I will tell you everything. Promise.) Anyways, his voice. It’s the sexiest thing that I’ve ever heard, and that includes the time we overheard Cedar Banks seducing Marigold Boffin. Goodness. Thorin is so confident, yet so quick to please. He moves with a surety I have not experienced before. I asked him the other night if he has always been so, and he ducked his head in the most endearing way and mumbled something about love bringing out a new level of confidence. (His bashful moments are rare, but incredibly sweet.)

If you haven’t guessed by now: yes. Thorin is my ~~One~~ excuse me, my bonded. “One,” capitalized, is the way that dwarves refer to those that are made by the Valar for them; their other halves, quite literally. We hobbits, to my knowledge, have no such strong fates in love; truly, it would be easier for most if we did, but it is what it is. This is of course with the exception of those like me, who the Valar shaped differently, to match our One. This is dwarven lore: but it is proven true in the intense, **absolute** nature of our bond. I hope I am not breaking any secrecy laws in revealing this, but I am not being as specific as I could and I am sure it will be fine. Their king is currently sprawled out in sleep beside me, after all...Oh, Primula. His black hair is flowing over the white bed linens, his braids undone, face relaxed and half buried into the pillow...he looks so lovely. He carries so much responsibility, so many burdens that were left on his shoulders by those who came before him, that he is normally very stern-expressioned. I love his smiles even more for it. (On an amusing side note: Bofur calls it a resting bitch face. I felt like you would like that fact, and Bofur himself; he is funny, and knows all the best drinking songs.)

Not to say that all is rainbows and sunshine. We are both quite headstrong and bicker often. Why, just the other day we had a tiff about a roast I was cooking. He kept insisting that it should be taken off the heat early for tenderness, and I straight up told him to shove it! Honestly, I almost can’t believe he had the gall to argue with me on that. We didn’t speak for the rest of the day, though we did have some excellent make-up sex that night. (During which I made him reluctantly admit that I had been correct, as the roast was perfect.) It is obvious he has not spent much time around our kind, otherwise he would know to never second-guess a hobbit’s cooking skills; especially a Baggins!

Ah, I can feel Thorin waking. The next few days are going to be extremely busy for me so I will cut this letter here. I wish I had more time to talk about my companions, but I suppose that will have to wait for the next letter. If I am lucky, I will find the time to write one more before we leave Rivendell and you will receive it within a month of this one.

Wish us luck, my dear cousin. There are many perils ahead of us, none greater than that to be found at the end of our journey. Pray to the Green Lady that we do not fail in our quest.

 

Your favorite cousin,

Bilbo

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments are appreciated far more than you could ever know. <3


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